


Black and White

by Enziroth



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Prison AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6507673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enziroth/pseuds/Enziroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid's been cut, burned, starved, whipped, and beaten half to death. He's exhausted, and all he wants to do is get out of this hellhole.<br/>Law isn't helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never

There was blood in his eye, and he couldn’t see.

He cinched his lid shut. Slowly, the liquid began to seep out, gathering drop by drop on his lashes.

The whip came down, striking him hard across the back of his shoulders, and he winced when the pain came a moment later.

“Pay attention.” The voice was cold, demanding. Kid ignored it, focusing again on the blood that steadily dripped from the long slash in his forehead. He couldn’t wipe it away, with his wrists tied back to his sides, and he couldn’t move his head with the thick metal collar around his neck; the chain it was linked to was wrapped around the hand of his tormentor, used to hold him up so he couldn’t avoid the bite of the lash.

“I gave you an order.”  _Fuck you._

Kid experimented with tilting his head, trying to direct the flow of blood away from his eye. 

The slap hit him across the left side of the face, spiked gauntlets dragging against his cheek and leaving long bloody welts. He choked out a cough, spitting out a piece of chipped tooth.

Great. Now blood was dripping in both his eyes.

“Listening now?”

His answer was a glare, thrown sideways behind him where he knew the man was. He’d lost track of the time he’d spent in this room, but the man was a constant, never pausing the torment. Even while he sat down to eat, the torturer had thrown darts at him, making a game out of piercing patterns in his skin.

Kid couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal. The complaints of his stomach, starved and twisted in his gut, had long ago taken a back seat to whatever the man’s sick mind could come up with.

“I asked you a question. Answer me.”

Kid licked his lips, dry and cracking. The only water he’d been given had been the man’s leftover bottle, splashed in his face. “Nehhh…” he tried, voice hoarse from disuse.

The chain was yanked up, forcing Kid to sit back on his heels as the man leaned down towards him. “Speak up.”

He wheezed, pressure on his neck making it hard to breath. He swallowed, throat aching as the weak muscles convulsed, and tried again. “Nehh…verr…”

The sound that came out was pitiful, more of a rasp than a human voice, but he knew the man understood him by the boot that dug into the small of his back.

“Never? Fool.” Even in apparent anger, the man’s tone was icy. “You’ll break soon enough. I look forward to dumping your corpse out the window, you insolent _brat_.”

Kid smiled wide, feeling the sores on his lips reopen as the skin stretched. "Give...it...worst...baaass....sstard."

The pull on the chain slackened, lowering Kid back into place. He heard the whoosh of air as the whip was raised, and grit his teeth in preparation for the next blow.

Metal clanged, the unmistakable sound of a lock being undone, and the door to the cell opened. Footsteps echoed lightly, the polished black boots that were all Kid could see walking forward to stop in front of him.

“Having fun, Vergo?” Huh. That voice was new. Other men had come in the cell before, delivering food to the torturer and checking on his progress. Their voices had been brisk, respectful, but this one was almost taunting. 

The torturer hissed, the first sign of emotion Kid had seen from him. “That’s _Mr_. Vergo to you, Law.”

A light chuckle came in response. “Any progress to report, Vergo?”

“None.” The same answer he’d given everyone who’d come to ask, and Kid was damn proud of it. Through the lashings, the molten prods, the electric shocks and all-out beatings, he’d never told the bastard anything. His crew was safe in their hideout, and it’d take more than this man could ever do to change that.

“Pity.” The newcomer’s tone made it sound like anything but. “Doflamingo has been informed of your lack of new information, and I’m afraid he’s decided to have the prisoner transferred to…more suitable care.”

Despite himself, Kid’s muscles locked up at the name. _Doflamingo_. The drug lord that practically ruled over their little stretch of the sea, and one of the ones Kid had set out to take down. He’d had a pretty good chance, cobbling together a gang strong enough to take down all the other minor players and carving out territory under his name. They’d been about to make their move, the big one that’d really push them to the top of the power ladder, when a surprise raid had left them leaderless and landed Kid in a cell.

“That’s ridiculous. _I_ will break him. There is no one more suitable.”

The newcomer (what had his name been? Law?) shifted on his feet, black boots approaching until they were only a few inches from his face. 

“I did mention that these orders came from _Doflamingo_ , did I not? If you wish to question them, I advise you to speak with him…given you value your life so little, of course.”

Kid could feel the tension in the room, a string pulled taut. The drug lord’s name seemed to do it, though, because he heard Vergo’s teeth grinding even through the blood pounding in his ears.

The newcomer took that as acceptance. “He's to be moved today, to my personal quarters in the medical wing. Do me a favor, and have him ready for transportation when the men get here. You have,” he paused, apparently to check something, “two hours.”

With that, the boots turned on their heels, walking back towards the door. As he turned to pass through it, Kid saw the edges of a long black coat. Who the hell was this guy? An officer in Doflamingo’s personal mafia?

Fingers dug into his hair, scraping his scalp as his head was yanked back. He found himself face-to-face with Vergo, upside down.

He'd never gotten a good look at the man. He wished he hadn't.

Vergo was a creepy fucker, with jagged-cut hair and shades shiny enough for Kid to see himself reflected in all his bruised and bloody glory.

"You may think you've gotten away," he said, freakishly calm, "but you haven't. You will die here, if it's by my hand or his."

_Try me, fuckface._


	2. Play Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be gone for a little while (five days), so in the next three days I'll be updating all the stories I have on here. Just a heads up for anyone waiting on updates :3

The men had come two hours later, but Kid hadn’t been awake to see them. Vergo had apparently decided he’d be easier to move while unconscious, which was a smart move, because he’d have fought tooth and nail otherwise.

This way, he hadn’t even seen the fist coming before it was lights out.

The good news was that he’d had his first decent sleep since he’d set foot in the prison.

The bad news was that he had a nightmare, one he really, really wanted to wake up from.

The worst news, the news he got when he slammed his head back against the steel operating table and still didn’t wake up, was that the nightmare was real.

Kid hated being trapped. He hated the helplessness that came with the coldness of cuffs against his wrists and ankles, the strain of leather bands against his waist and forehead. He hated being spread out, on display, weakness exposed for all to see.

And he _hated_ the bastard at his feet, pair of scissors in hand, snipping away at his pants. He stared the man down, willing him to look up and see his death in Kid’s eyes.

The scissors caught and slid, and Kid felt cold air against his thigh. The man held up a piece of bloody, ruined fabric, clicking his tongue. “These are useless. I’ll have to find you more.”

He tossed it behind him, carelessly, then went back to work with the scissors. Kid kept up the glare, recognizing the voice as the newcomer in his cell, but the man didn’t look at him once. Did he even know Kid was awake? Had he been talking to himself? He’d heard the rumors about the crazies Doflamingo kept company with, and he’d seen enough of Vergo to know the man was one of them. Was this just another psycho?

Kid saw the last of his protection go flying past the man’s shoulder, and held back a shiver. Now there was nothing to protect him from the dark gaze that swept up his body and rested on his face.

His eyes…there was something wrong with his eyes. No one had eyes that color, a burnished gold that lit up almost devilishly when the man smiled. “Ah, you’re awake.”

Kid opened his mouth. _No shit, freak_ , he tried to say, but all that came out was a dry cough.

A bottle appeared in front of him, tilted so that a thin stream of water dribbled down on his lips. He clamped them shut, innate distrust leaving him wary.

A thumb pressed down on the side of his mouth, gentle but firm. “You need this. You might not know it, but you’re more dead than alive right now. Honestly, I’d much rather have you alive.”

Kid didn’t give a fuck what the man would rather have, but the thumb had started to massage his lips, loosening the muscles. Kid knew he’d have to open eventually, and fuck, he was just so _weak_ right now. He could feel the hunger sucking strength out of him, every cut and bruise aching.

He felt his head being tilted up, metal beneath him rising on some sort of hinge. The bottle was pressed against his lips, and he could hear the unspoken offer.

_I could force you to drink this, but if you open up, you get to keep your pride_.

Kid liked his pride.

The bottle's opening pushed past his lips, plastic edges scraping the chapped skin. The first mouthful of water hit the back of his throat and it was like paradise. He swallowed greedily, drinking the bottle down. As soon as the first was empty, the second was pushed to his lips. After that came a third, and a fourth, until at the fifth he couldn't take anymore, mouth firmly shut as nausea coiled in his belly.

His head was still raised, and as the bottle left his view he could see his naked self spread in front of him. Pale skin dotted with burn marks, shriveled and red where he'd been hit with a cattle prod. The bruises were everywhere, mottling his skin so he seemed more purple than white.

He frowned. Was the white tape around his thigh a bandage?

"Enjoying the view?" The man's voice came from his right, just out of his line of vision. Kid wanted to turn, to get a good look at his new captor, but the bands kept him pinned tight. "Vergo left me with quite the patch-up job. Rude of him, really, but I suppose he wasn't expecting you to live long enough for it to matter."

"Too bad," Kid croaked through the thick film in his throat.

The man made a vague sound of agreement. Kid felt a hand in his hair, fingers toying with the roots. “Such a nice color,” his captor murmured, almost to himself. He began to comb through it, nails catching on tangles and sending little sparks of pain down Kid’s spine. “I’ll have to wash it for you. You aren’t healthy enough for a bath yet, but I can’t wait to see what this looks like clean.”

A loose strand fell on Kid’s face, and he blew it back. What did this guy think Kid was, some kind of pet? Kid could wash his own damn self, and Gold Eyes here could get fucked.

He shifted in his bonds, testing their strength. He knew he couldn’t do shit about the cuffs, but the leather straps were a different deal. If they were nailed in, he could push them hard enough against the screws that they’d tear. And if he played his cards right, he could wait until the guy got close and catch his neck between his teeth. It’d be ugly, and he’d probably be killed for it, but they were going to kill him anyway and he’d rather take one of theirs down with him.

He’d need to be stronger, though. A lot stronger. And as his stomach reminded him, without food he didn’t stand a chance.

So he’d play this freak’s game. “Gonna feed me or what?”

The fingers in his hair pulled away, leaving his scalp tingling. “It’s best to let the water settle first. You aren’t ready for solid meals yet; you’d better get used to broth for a while.”

Whatever. He’d take what he could get. “Fine, gimme that.”

A hand gripped his chin. “Funny how you think you can make demands here.” Fingertips stroked his face,caressing the skin. “You’re going to learn very soon that everything here has a price, and the price of control is the highest of all.”

Kid would have been a little more annoyed about being treated like a child if he hadn’t been distracted by the black ink on the man’s hands. There was some kind of pattern on the backs, and the symbols on the fingers could almost be letters.

_D…E A…T…H_ , he read.

Yeah, this guy was batshit crazy.

The hands slid away. There was a grunt of effort, the sense of movement by Kid’s side, and then weight settled heavy on his thighs. The man had pulled himself up on the table, straddling Kid with his legs swinging free on either side. Without the half-awake haze of earlier, Kid could finally focus on what his captor looked like.

He was surprisingly young; hair raven-black and styled rough, haphazardly sticking up in random places. An angular face with a well-groomed goatee, twin gold rings dangling from each ear. He couldn’t have been much older than Kid, with cheeks smooth and unwrinkled even with the wide grin he wore. Those damned gold eyes peered out at him, picking him apart and judging him piece by piece.

They must have liked what they saw. The grin widened, and the man leaned forward. “Oh, we’re going to have so much _fun_ together, Eustass.”


	3. Doctor, Doctor

As he’d shared soon after, the man’s name was Law, and he was the resident doctor for Doflamingo’s little family.

He was also one hell of a sick bastard.

He’d left Kid alone, strapped to the operating table, for three hours while he attended to something else. Kid had watched the minutes tick by on the clock in the room, the only thing worth looking at in a medical bay full of wicked-looking surgical tools equipment. The need to piss had grown in him with every moment Law didn’t return, an annoyance that rapidly rose above the stings of pain and the twisting of his empty stomach.

And it was _cold_. Law hadn’t given him the promised pants, leaving him bare.

When the man finally came back, Kid’s pride had been the only thing keeping him from soiling himself. Law had laughed at his face, scrunched up in the effort it took to hold back.

And then he’d dropped this. “I’ll let you go to the bathroom…if you give me something in return.”

“I’m not telling you shit.” Kid could easily trade pride for the lives of his crew. He was almost relieved Law had made the offer; now, what would have been embarrassing would be an act of defiance.

“Who said anything about information?” The man had circled the table, stopping behind Kid to rest his hands on his head. He seemed to like Kid’s hair, idly running his fingers through it while he spoke. “I’m going to find something for you to wear. I want you to wear it, without complaining, without trying to take it off. If you accept, and keep your promise, I’ll let you go whenever you need to. If you break your promise…” He leaned in to whisper against Kid’s ear. “You’ll never leave this table.”

“Whatever.” If all the bastard wanted was compliance in getting him dressed, that suited Kid. The sooner he got out of these bands, the better, and he’d rather have prison rags than be stuck nude.

“I’m taking that as acceptance, Eustass. If you try to cheat me later, I _will_ follow through.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get me out of this.”

Law’s little chuckle as he unbound him made Kid uneasy, the man not even trying to hide his delight as he snapped a collar around Kid’s neck and linked the cuffs behind his back. He couldn’t have made the wrong choice by accepting; he could deal with anything that didn’t involve him giving up his crew. If the psycho thought he’d gotten the upper hand by getting Kid to work with him a little, he’d be in for a rude awakening.

Besides, he’d held his own with Vergo. What could this man possible do to be worse than that?

  
This man was the sickest, most psychotic son of a bitch he'd ever seen.

"I'm not putting that on."

"You promised, Eustass."

"Yeah, but I didn't....I didn't think.... _that_."

"Oh? That's too bad." Law was leaning up against the doorframe, cleaning his nails with a wet cloth.

He'd strapped Kid back on the table before wiping him down like a baby, lifting his limbs to get to tough spots. Kid had grit his teeth and sat through it, imagining what it would feel like to break the man's face. He had a nice, breakable face. The thought of what those delicate cheekbones would feel like cracking under his fist kept him going, even while Law took his dick in hand to clean it.

Law had finally finished, after spending about ten minutes on Kid's hair alone. It was creepy how much attention he paid to the stuff, smoothing out tangles with his fingers and rinsing it until the normally spiky locks lay flat and soaked against his skull.

Then he'd tilted the hinged plate up again, raising Kid up until he could sip from a bowl of warm broth. He could've drank the whole thing and two more after, but Law stopped him halfway through.

"Your stomach isn't ready," he'd chided, earning a low growl. "There's no need for that. Who's the doctor here?"

_You'll need a doctor when I'm done with you._

Then he'd left, returning with the absolute monstrosity that was currently staring Kid in the face. Law had lain it against him on the table, lining it up with his body and announcing that it would fit. Then he'd left it there to get rid of the washcloths, Kid's head angled up just enough to see the costume spread out over him.

Despite Kid's best efforts to shake the thing off him, it was still there when Law came back.

"You're kidding. This...this has to be a joke, you can't fucking do this."

Law looked up from his nails, gaze level with Kid's. "That sounds like a complaint, Eustass. Do you remember our deal?" Those gold eyes burned into him, a clear threat even with the smirk on his face. "I'll give you a second chance, but after that, I won't hesitate to follow through."

Kid met that stare, weighing his options. The bastard had to be doing this for a reason; he'd obviously picked up on Kid's pride. Maybe he was trying to chip away at it, to see if he could embarrass Kid enough to get him to crack.

Okay. As long as Kid knew the game, he could play it.

"Okay...gonna help me get it on?" He wriggled his wrists, trapped in their cuffs. "Little stuck here."

Law's grin widened.

 

How the hell it fit him, Kid didn't know. It was obviously built for a woman, with bows and ribbons and a waistband that cinched tight just above his hips.

It shouldn't have fit. The ribbon that held the top up should have been too short to wrap around his neck. The ruffled bit that covered his chest should have been too tight to slide over his pecs. The skirt should have been too short to cover what it needed to, and the lace stockings should have torn long before they reached his mid-thighs.

It shouldn't have fit, but it did, and now Kid was strapped down to a table in nothing but a frilly black-and-white maid's costume.

Law hadn't let him up to change, instead releasing only a hand or a foot at a time to slide the pieces on him. He'd stepped back after each one, leaning in to make minor adjustments as he saw fit.

His eyes had gleamed when he'd stepped back for the last time, taking in Kid all at once. His hand had come up to his mouth, fingertips sliding between his lips as he studied the man on the table.

"Perfect," he said in a hushed whisper, and Kid suddenly fit the pieces together.

"You sick fuck, you're getting off on this."

"I am," Law admitted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His other hand moved down, rubbing himself at the crotch of his pants, and Kid couldn't believe that this was happening to him.

He was suddenly reminded of how defenseless he was, immobile and spread wide. He wished for something, anything, to be under the skirt, another layer of protection against the fucked-up man in front of him. Bizarrely, he felt more exposed than he had been while naked, silk brushing his skin and making him shiver.

"If you even _think_ ," Kid said, low and growling to hide the sharp tang of fear, "of fucking me, I'll rip your dick off."

Law let out a soft sound at that, fingers dipping below the waist of his pants. Kid could see them moving below the fabric, following the lines of a slowly growing bulge.

"I'm serious," he said, panic rising in the back of his throat, voice coming out weaker than he'd wanted. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you even _touch_ me."

"No..." Law whimpered, words coming out breathy and uneven as his fingers moved faster. "Don't want...to fuck you. Want...to get you off..."

Kid didn't know have a response for that, but Law didn't seem to need one. The man got up on the table, arranging himself on Kid's thighs as he had before. He tugged his pants down and let them rest on the curve of his hips, opening them just enough for him to pull out his-

Kid squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't looking, he wasn't going to look, wasn't going to acknowledge that this could be happening. Everything was a dream, a bad dream; the maid costume, Law's weight heavy on him, the cool touch of air as the skirt was lifted up, all of it would go away if he could _just wake up_.

A smooth palm rubbed into him, thumb massaging his tip, and Kid felt himself harden with the warmth that coiled in his belly.

"Open your eyes, Eustass."

_No, fuck, no no no..._

"Eustass. Look at me."

_No. Get off me. Get away from me._

A nail dug into the sensitive skin at his head, and Kid choked, eyes wide open.

And he choked again, because Law had crawled right up him, and Kid was close enough to see the little beads of sweat gathering in the nape of his neck.

Gold eyes, half-lidded, peered up at him. His mouth was open, just enough for staggering breaths to pass through, and his lips fell into an almost happy grin as he noticed Kid watching.

_Fuck_. A psycho like him had no right to be that pretty.

Law let out another of those soft noises he'd made earlier, more of a high-pitched gasp than a moan. His gaze slid down their bodies, resting on where Kid's cock lay erect in his hand.

He shifted, bringing his hips forward. A hand came up to grab Kid's shoulder, anchoring him as he carefully aligned their cocks. _No, he couldn't be-_

Slick flesh rubbed against him, and Law's grip widened to hold both of them together. He began to pump, slowly at first, then faster. The hand kept slipping, combined girths too wide for those slender fingers, and it was driving Kid crazy.

He wanted to sit up, to take over and pin Law down so he could grind against the little bitch. He wanted the band around his waist gone, so he could thrust into Law's hand and get the friction he needed. He wanted Law to never stop with that sweet grip, to keep sliding them together until they came all over this stupid fucking outfit.

Law's fingers slipped again, rhythm breaking as he struggled to regain his hold. Kid growled, long and low, in his ear. "Use both hands, you slut," he hissed.

Law said something in reply, but Kid wasn't listening. All he cared about was the hand that left his shoulder and took its sweet time getting down to where he wanted it.

Finally, finally, it closed around him. With one hand on himself and the other on Kid, Law sat up and straddled him. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Kid's cock, watching the flushed skin bunch under his fingers.

"You look so good like this," he whispered. "I can't wait to try you out."

Kid probably should have been pissed about that, but fuck, Law could say whatever he wanted so long as he didn't stop. Kid was getting close now; he couldn't remember the last time he'd come, couldn't think of the last time he'd felt something other than pain. Even now, with every inch of him bruised and aching, he couldn't hold back the release that boiled up from his gut.

Law's fingers clamped down hard around him, pinching the base of his cock. Kid shuddered, spasms wracking his body as he fought against the grip. His orgasm caught in his belly, balls drawing up tight, but the steady pressure kept it from going any further.

Kid settled back on the table, trying to catch his breath.

"Not yet," Law murmured, rubbing his shaft as if to comfort him. "I'm not done with you. Soon."

He returned his attention to Kid's cock, swiping his thumb across the slit to gather the liquid there. He raised the hand to his face as he pumped Kid with the other, studying it, before flashing one of those smirks he seemed to have an endless supply of. "Open up."

Kid's eyes zeroed in on the fingertips, shiny and slick with his own precum. _Oh, fuck no._ He kept his mouth firmly shut, even when Law prodded him with one and left a wet smear on his lips.

"Don't you want to come, Eustass?" Law's hand moved faster, pressure steadily rebuilding in Kid's groin. He had no doubt Law would pull the same trick again if he didn't get what he wanted. " _Open up_."

In any other situation, Kid would've held. Law might be plenty happy now just rutting against his thigh, but he'd have to come eventually, and Kid could make a challenge out of outlasting the bastard.

But not now. Not when he was beaten down, exhausted, and helpless. Not when Law was so skillfully working him up, bringing him to the edge and back even with the ever-present threat of that agonizing grip.  Not when all he wanted was to come, to come all over that grinning face, to come so hard he passed out and woke up somewhere else. He couldn't do it.

"Sick. Fuck," Kid managed to get out, before his mouth was filled with Law's blunt fingers and the salty taste of himself. His reward was a twist of the hand on his cock, something quick and tight in just the right place and oh God he couldn't-

He came silently, throat clenched shut to muffle the sounds trying to force their way out. In the brilliant, pulsing aftershocks, he didn't notice a tongue replacing the fingers in his mouth, a sweeter taste overtaking the one of precum as lips pressed hard against his own.

By the time realization pierced his hazy mind, Law had thrown back his head and come with the biggest smile he'd ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sex scene took eight rewrites and generally kicked my ass.


	4. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should have been out five days ago...yeah...

The post-orgasmic daze had done nothing to soften his rush of fury at being used, and he'd shouted himself hoarse at the bastard. Law hadn't even looked at him, wiping his hands on the skirt of Kid's outfit and tucking his cock back into his pants. He watched, impassive, as Kid's voice grew rough and wheezing, waiting until he paused to take a breath.

"You need to rest."

Kid opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Law didn't bother to move him, instead throwing a blanket over the table he was strapped to and sliding a pillow between his head and the hard metal.

"Take...off....cuff," Kid rasped.

"No."

"Bathroom," he insisted.

"You emptied your bladder several hours ago, and you haven't ingested enough liquids to need to do so again."

_Fuck you and fuck whatever doctor shit you're pulling_ , Kid had wanted to say, but his sore throat hadn't cooperated. He settled for a glare, which was easily ignored.

Law adjusted the blanket to cover his feet, smoothing the wrinkles and patting his thigh through the cloth. "I've got work to do, Eustass. Sleep, and I'll be back in the morning."

And with that, he was gone, clicking off the lights and closing the door behind him.

How the fuck was he supposed to sleep after what Law had done to him? His ego chafed, every inch of him was sore, and his mind was struggling to come to terms with his new situation. Every few seconds he'd fight the urge to blink away sleep from his eyes, to wake up and be back in the torture room with Vergo ready to start on him again.

Funny, it'd felt plenty real when he could hear how his flesh crackled under the hot poker, could see the shadow of the whip in front of him as it came arcing down and know he was still alive. Everything around Law felt loose and hazy; now, even with cum drying on his skin, he almost couldn't believe that an officer in Doflamingo's family had pinned him down and jerked him off.

Fuck, he was too tired to think about it right now. The room was freezing, the bands were digging into his skin, and the pillow was as soft as a bag of rocks. There was no way he'd be able to sleep like this.

Kid mentally resigned himself to a long night of nothing but his churning thoughts.

And promptly passed out.

 

The light speared straight through his skull and woke him, along with a monster of a headache.

He groaned, voice cracking in his throat, and shut his eyes until he could hear himself think over the pounding in his ears. When he opened them again, it took only a few seconds for him to remember where he was.

And only a half-moment later until he recognized the bastard sitting cross-legged on the counter across from him, calmly sipping a cup of coffee.

He sat up to scream bloody murder, except he couldn't, because his forehead hit the metal band and that sent him right back down again.

The pain came not long after, and it was all he could do to hold back a whimper as every inch of him lit up sore and aching. He could feel every cut, every bruise, all the broken bones in the foot Vergo had smashed. Kid had been messed up pretty badly a few times in his life, but this...this _hurt_.

"Morning, Eustass. I see you're doing well."

He was too busy trying to breathe to respond. In and out, in and out, fighting the red fog of agony all the way.

"It seems the painkillers have worn off. Pity."

There were tears welling up at the corners of his eyes, and Kid blinked them away, annoyed. He'd been able to deal with this in the torture cell, but there it'd been a slow build as Vergo worked him over. Now, it was all coming at once, and it was far too much for him to handle. God, he didn't want to break down in front of this psycho...

"I have more painkillers, you know. Do you want them?"

What kind of a stupid fucking question was that? He _needed_ them. Kid managed a nod.

"You'll have to trade me for them."

_Sneaky, conniving, manipulative son of a bitch._ Would he ask for information this time, or dress him up in something else?

"I don't plan on keeping you here forever, Eustass. I'm moving you to your cell today, and I want you to be on your best behavior."

Well, wasn't that just fine and dandy. With what he'd seen of Law's seemingly innocent little deals so far, he'd bet the "cell" was a glass case in the middle of the prison, where he'd be tossed in to prance around naked in front of the inmates.

Kid felt a snarl twist his face at the thought, and with anger rising in him, he was able to push back the pain enough to concentrate. "Fuck you."

"Not yet."

The implication took a moment to settle in to Kid's dazed brain, and when it did, he jerked against his bonds and triggered another wave of agony.

By the time he recovered from it, Law had moved to stand behind him, stretching a hand in front of his face. Two little white pills rested in the open palm. "Agree to behave, and they're yours."

Kid eyed their smooth, unmarked surfaces. "Those gonna poison me?"

"I'm far too fond of you to let you go that easily." Deft fingers caught his chin, tilting his head up. Law peered down at him, frowning. "Your eyes are red. Really, Eustass, you've got to be miserable."

"It's better than what you have in mind, you sick fuck."

"I don't think so." A cool hand spread against his forehead, and Law's frown deepened. "This strain isn't helping your recovery, Eustass. Take the deal and we'll get on with it."

Like Kid would believe the fucker actually cared. "Nope."

Law made a sound of exasperation. "I don't have all day."

So Law had plans, huh? Now this was something he could handle. It'd take a lot more than a few torture wounds for him to pass up an opportunity to get back at his captor. Kid smiled, a harsh, teeth-gritted grin. "Sucks to be you."

Something about that made Law narrow his eyes, drawing back both hands to plant them on his hips. He studied Kid with the air of a scientist, that same analyzing stare he'd had when Kid first woke up. The gaze drifted over him, growing heated as it landed on the skirt he still wore. Pale white stains stood out  near the hem of the material, reminding Kid of what had happened the last time Law had looked at him that way.

Was it just Kid, or was one of those tattooed hands moving? Sliding across the tight fabric of his jeans, headed for the waistband...and was it just Kid, or was there something pressing against the seam?

_Oh, fuck no. Not again._ Kid growled from the back of his throat, calling Law's attention away from the outfit and back to him. "Those pills," he said, grudgingly. "How do I know they aren't gonna hurt me?"

Law raised an eyebrow, hand smoothly rising to perch on his hip once more. "You have my word for it. I'll take one myself, to prove they're safe."

"I'm not putting on anything," Kid stressed. "No tricks. You're just gonna take me to the cell."

"No tricks, I promise." Law stepped forward, raising the pills to his lips. "Do you accept?"

"Yeah." Now that he didn't have the thrill of resistance to hold it back, the pain was unbearable. "Gimme the damn pills."

Chuckling low under his breath, Law complied, tilting his hand up. "We really do need to work on trust, Eustass. It's hard to find and harder to keep, especially in here, but I _will_ have it with you."

Kid didn't bother wasting time trying to figure out what the psycho meant.


	5. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hopefully, I'll be able to update Bloodred and Seagreen soon.  
> I missed having internet....and air conditioning....

_No tricks,_ he'd said. _Just moving you to your cell_.

Kid had to hand it to him. Law hadn't lied.

He stomped down hard on the next hand that reached out to grab him, even as his broken foot ached in protest through its brace. He relished in the pained shriek, a welcome change from the crude catcalls that'd followed him since he'd left the man's quarters, but the triumph was short-lived.

"Eustass, we keep valuable prisoners here. I can't have you damaging them." Law yanked on the chain attached to his collar, pulling him over to walk in the middle of the hallway.

Kid tamped down on the anger rising in him. He'd promised his compliance, and the sooner he got to his cell, the sooner he'd be away from Law. The man had proven himself a bona-fide pervert by fitting Kid with a pink leather collar before chaining him up and dragging him out into the prison. That, coupled with the maid outfit that Law hadn't bothered to change him out of, was the reason he'd spent the last ten minutes getting besieged by jeers and clingy hands as they walked through the halls.

A particularly rude invitation from a cell full of men old enough to be his father had him leveling a sneer at his captor. "Is this really the way to my cell, or are you showing me off to all the faggots first?"

Law met his accusation with a lazy grin, utterly unfazed. "I thought I'd take you on a tour. This is your new home, after all."

_Bastard_. "Just get me to where I'm staying and leave me the hell alone."

A dark chuckle was his only response, and it was another ten minutes before Law abruptly turned and led him through a different part of the prison.

This hallway was noticeable different, with guards posted at regular intervals and the ceiling lights cranked to top brightness to drive out shadows. The jeering faded away the moment they turned down it, replaced by scattered snickering and quiet laughter.

Law stopped in front of a cell indistinguishable from any other, motioning to a nearby guard for it to be opened. Kid peered inside, surprised to see that it wasn't empty.

"Meet your new cellmates. I trust you'll have no trouble getting along." Law waved at the three men sitting propped against the metal wall. The first threw him a glance, stiffening at the sight of his outfit  before rolling over to face the wall. The second let his eyes linger on the skirt, brutish face twisting into a leer, while the third stared blankly ahead. They were all big men, scars from past fights clearly visible on their skin where they weren't covered by the prison rags.

Law unhooked the chain from his collar and pushed him inside with surprising gentleness, rattling off a list of instructions as the barred door slid shut behind him. "I want a guard posted here at all times. Don't feed him the usual stuff, I'll send down meals for him for the first two weeks. Have him at my quarters by eight every morning and be there to escort him back by twelve. Understood?"

A round of nods.

"Another thing. He isn't to be beaten under any circumstances; if he breaks a rule, you send for me. I've rigged this cell with cameras, and I'll know if he...or _you_...does anything wrong. Any unnecessary action, and you'll be my new test subject. Are we clear?"

Another round of nods, more vigorous than the last. _So the guy's got power here_. _Huh_.

Law smiled at Kid through the bars, a half-lidded smirk that promised nothing good. "Enjoy your stay, Eustass. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Wakeup call's at five. Meals are at six, twelve and seven. Recreation yard from one to five. Lights out at ten." The information came from his first cellmate, who was still studiously watching the wall.

"Thanks." Kid didn't care for getting to know the people he was stuck with, but the man's purposeful refusal to acknowledge the maid outfit was the first shred of mercy he'd be given in ages. "Name's Kid," he offered.

"Mitchells."

That was the end of the conversation, which was fine by him. He wasn't in a chatty mood, especially since his second cellmate hadn't stopped staring at him. It was a demeaning kind of stare, the dull black eyes roving over his exposed skin as if he were an item at an auction.

It made Kid want to punch his face in, but he held back. He was pretty sure starting a fight would get him sent straight back to Law, and he'd only just escaped the guy. Besides, he wasn't even sure if he could win; all the muscle he'd built up had fallen away in Vergo's care, and he couldn't pull off intimidation with his injuries in clear view.

Kid dragged himself over to the twin bunk beds, flopping down on one that looked unoccupied. Even though he hated to leave himself defenseless with that creep watching, the walk to the cell had exhausted him.

_Fucking pathetic_. There was nothing Kid hated more than feeling weak. He'd spent his whole life building up strength, a gang, a reputation, and now he didn't even have enough pull to get some proper clothes.

Staring at the smooth steel of the prison's walls, feeling the cold air of the prison on his bare skin, with the memory of Law's smile as a constant reminder of the madness surrounding him, he couldn't see an end to it all. For once in his life, he didn't know where to _go_.

There had always been a goal to accomplish, a next step to take. It was a long line of consecutive actions that would put him where he wanted to be, from getting the hell out of the garbage heap he'd called home to displacing Doflamingo as overlord of their little stretch of sea.

Here, there was nothing. He was trapped in an impenetrable prison on a rock separated from the main island by five miles of rough open ocean. His crew was scattered, possibly even dead if Killer hadn't managed to hide them away somewhere. His plans were in pieces, his image was shattered, and he was wholly dependent on a psycho freak for as much as a bathroom break.

Depression was harder to force down than anger. It swept past his defenses and sapped the strength from his bones, an unstoppable wave of hopelessness. _I'll die here, in enemy territory, weak as a baby and in nothing but a shitty fucking-_

That guy was _still_ staring at him.

Kid welcomed the rush of rage at being ogled, the rising fury chasing the ice out of his veins. _No. No, I'm not gonna die here, because I'm gonna see that creep in pieces first_.

"Keep staring," Kid growled. "I'll rip your spine out and shove it down your throat."

The man flinched, the familiar look of fear crossing his features for a split second before he scowled and turned away.

Kid felt a little better.

 

Law checked the cameras as soon as he returned to his quarters. They were there for more than security reasons; Eustass was still in a very fragile state, and he could hardly trust the guards with his care. They may take orders from him, but ultimately, their loyalty was to Doflamingo.

_Ah, good_. Eustass was asleep on one of the beds, looking none the worse for wear. The maid getup suited his thin frame quite well, and Law briefly considered banning him from the recreation yard. No doubt he'd bulk back up as soon as he could, and from the pictures he'd seen of the man before his capture, he wouldn't be fitting into anything nearly so delicate.

But there was his health to consider, both mental and physical. Eustass would need all his strength if he were to properly participate in what Law had planned for him.

Oh, well. He had plenty of outfits made for larger men, anyways.

Law turned his attention to the meal chart he'd written out while Eustass was asleep, scanning it. He'd have to ring for lunch to be sent down soon, and perhaps request one of his own trusted guards to accompany the man to the yard. Eustass would make for a tempting target, half-naked and more than half-dead, and he wouldn't have his experiment turning into an easy kill for a prison gang wannabe. No, he wouldn't lose him so soon in the game.

He was the perfect subject. All of his other experiments had been throw-away men, ones that had outlived their uselessness and were slated to be killed off within the week; there was never enough time to really break them.

Eustass, however, would be here for far longer. Doflamingo's plan for him was quite simple, and very, very effective.

If they'd just killed him off, his gang would rally behind a new leader and seek revenge. They wouldn't be a real threat, but a group of rough outlaws riling up the population to rise against him was the last thing Doflamingo needed right now. By leaving him alive, they'd force the gang to split down the middle; between those who would try to rescue their old leader, and those who would give up on him and choose a new one.

Scattered, leaderless, and fighting amongst themselves, they wouldn't be in any condition to challenge Doflamingo. More than likely, they'd dissolve the gang and go back to whatever they used to do before Eustass came along.

_And I'll have him all to myself_.

That reminded him; he really needed to do some cleaning. He'd left his special room in a sorry state after the last subject had been shipped off for execution, not bothering to mop the blood up in his disappointment. Law had needed to resort to actual torture to get the man to follow the rules, which simply ruined his enjoyment.

Eustass was smarter, though. He could see that keen, feral intelligence in his eyes, the kind that was always watching for signs of weakness. It was in the way he walked, the way the spoke, even the way his face lit up in fury when Law turned his own body against him with soft touches and rough strokes.

Law couldn't wait to get him in his room.


	6. Fear and Loathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is about a year overdue. Yep.   
> Good news is, I'm finally back into some semblance of normal. Mediocre news is, I'll probably never go back to the almost constant updates I could manage before, just because holy shit how did I actually manage to do that. But more good news is, here's this!

Lunch was possibly the most bland and boring meal he'd ever had.

"This is bullshit," he said to no one in particular, eyeing the food trays the guards had brought to his cellmates. Their food wasn't anything special, just sandwiches made with plain cheese and some unidentifiable kind of meat, but at least it was _food_.

Apparently, Law's idea of "food" consisted of a plate of vegetables and the same tasteless broth he'd had yesterday. If he ever had to pick his idea of the worst meal ever, this would be it, just barely beating out "crumbled rocks" and "actual dog shit".

Kid picked up a spindly green stick and dangled it between two fingers, frowning. What the fuck was this? Celery? He hadn't touched celery since Killer went on a health kick a while ago, and he'd thrown a bunch of the stuff at his second-in-command for trying to feed it to him.

The only thing that looked mildly edible on the tray were two little white pills, probably painkillers. He took those and downed the water he'd been given, wincing at the brackish taste.

Vegetables. And broth. He swirled his finger in the bowl. It wasn't even warm.

He slid a glance at his third cellmate, who was eating his meal with a stupidly blank look on his face. _If I steal his sandwich, will they send me to Law?_

Probably. There was a guy watching him from outside the cell, and he hadn't moved since Law left. Kid would bet his left leg that the guy was only there to rat him out whenever he did something wrong.

Fine. Broth and veggies it was.

 

A little while later, guards came by to line them up by the bars and let them out of their cells, one by one.

Whoever ran the prison wasn't stupid enough to give the guards guns, but all of them had spiked batons that they weren't afraid to use. Just while being herded down the hall, presumably toward whatever the recreation yard was, Kid had watched three prisoners who'd stepped out of line get beaten to a bloody pulp.

Well, all of them had batons, except for Kid's guard. It was obvious that he was Kid's, because he hadn't left his side since they'd opened the cell doors. The guy had kept steady pace with him, stopping when he stopped and moving when he moved. And yeah, the spiky batons looked nasty, but the little barbed knives hanging from this guard's belt were downright wicked.

It didn't take long to get to the yard, which turned out to be an open-air square of grass surrounded by twenty-foot-tall metal walls. There was a rough dirt path around the perimeter, with a few prisoners already jogging around, and a bolted down rack of weights far on one end.

Kid stopped as soon as he stepped foot outside, basking in the fresh air until a guard jabbed him with a baton and told him to get out of the way.

Kid shuffled a few steps to the left, leaned against a wall, and basked there instead.

The weak sun didn't provide much heat, and the air was heavy with salt and the sea. He grew bored of it quickly, glancing around to study the yard. The guard stood casually next to him, craning his neck up to look at the sky. He didn't say anything, so Kid ignored him.

_Shit_. People were staring at him. Nobody had given him anything else to wear, so he was stuck in the maid costume Law had fitted him with. He'd probably have to do something about that.

It was cold, but the hunger in some of the stares made his decision for him. The top half of the costume was the first to go, as he ripped the flimsy fabric down the middle. His skin stung and his wounds ached in the cold air, but he could deal with it.

He tried the collar next, fingers fumbling around the length of it for a clasp. He hadn't seen how Law had secured it when he put it on, but there had to be a way to get the thing off again.

His fingertips brushed against a solid chunk of metal, feeling out the distinctive shape of a keyhole. _Fuck_.

Kid scowled, giving up on the collar and moving to the lacey thigh-highs. They came off easily enough, and he tore out a long strip to use as a makeshift bandana before tossing the rest.

Then he mentally took a step back and examined himself. The top half of the outfit hung from his waist, covering the skirt and giving him a little more protection. The collar was still there, and still obnoxiously pink, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He looked about as normal as he was going to get, so he moved on.

Weights were out; he wasn't stupid enough to cozy up to the muscle freaks over by the rack. There were a few sparring rings scattered around, but like hell he was going to join one of those in this state. All the other equipment was taken, and he was in no shape to muscle somebody out of the way.

That left the dirt path. He was barefoot, so running would hurt like a bitch, but whatever. He'd take it.

The guy pushed off of the wall and followed him when Kid started heading for the track.

As soon as he took the first step to pick up speed, his foot screamed out in protest. He swore under his breath, forcing himself to slow down and keep moving when all he wanted to do was collapse to take the weight off it.

He couldn’t fall over now; he had no doubt a shit ton of people were watching, and if he didn’t already look like a pansy piece of shit, that would do it.

So he walked, gritting his teeth until the pain in his foot calmed to a manageable level. Two laps around the track, five laps, ten. He’d had a good deal of time to get used to walking again while being paraded around the prison, but he still felt stiff and unnatural. There was no way to know just how badly he’d been fucked up; even under the maid outfit, he was more bandage than skin.

Somebody lapped him on the track, moving fast. It was right as he reached a corner, and they cut across a little as they passed by. They cut in front of him a little too close, however, and he gritted his teeth as he had to jerk to a stop before he hit them.

He would have thought nothing of it. They misjudged the distance, is all. They hadn’t even looked twice at him.

One second, the man was a few inches in front of him. The next, he was on the ground, clutching his arm and screaming in pain.

Kid had already begun the motions to begin walking again, and he had to stumble to a halt again as he processed it. The guard… _his_ guard…had moved so fast he almost hadn’t seen it, slicing with all four of those wicked knives in a single swipe.

Fuck, he could see the dull white glint of bone through the gaps in the man’s fingers, cinched tight as if he could hold the wound closed. The flesh was shredded, blood leaking from a hundred places at once, and not a single one of the guards at the door was moving to help. No other prisoners were, either.

_He's gonna die_ , Kid realized. It didn’t take a genius to realize that he’d bleed to death, without any kind of care. _For getting just a little too close._

His guard looked straight at him, watching, but without emotion. As if he was just waiting for Kid to move again so he could follow.

Kid looked at the man on the ground, still whimpering, still moaning and rocking back and forth pathetically, eyes closed tight as if he couldn’t stand to see the damage.

He looked away and kept walking. The guy wasn’t one of his; no one here was. And if he wanted to keep it that way, he needed to focus on himself.

He walked six more laps around the track, each time passing the man on the ground. The guards called for lineup again, to lead them back inside, and Kid never once looked behind him.

 

Dinner was the same as lunch. Cold broth, raw vegetables, two pills on the side.

He ate it anyway.

 

Sleep came as soon as he dropped his head on the pillow, but it didn’t last for more than a second until bright lights and loud, banging noises forced him awake. He cracked his eyes open to see trays being slid underneath the bars.

_Food_. God, he was starving. Kid moved to get up, but his entire body seized up in one big, painful cramp. Black spots swarmed in front of his eyes, covering his vision until he was completely blinded. After a few moments, the pain calmed and his sight returned, just in time to see the brutish bastard from earlier reaching for two white pills from one of the trays.

“Hey!” he barked out, struggling to get his feet beneath him to stand. He _needed_ those pills, damnit-

The guy ignored him, hand inching forward until it was abruptly crushed under a thick black boot. He let out a surprised hiss, escalating to a low growl as his fingers were grinded into the floor.

Kid looked up and recognized his guard from yesterday. Thick sunglasses and a low-slung hat covered his face like all the other guards, but those knives at his hip were unmistakable.

His guard let the guy suffer for a few more moments, then lifted his boot, leaving the bastard to retreat to one corner of the cell with his own tray.

Kid cautiously lowered himself to the floor, wincing at the pressure on his foot, and inched forward to collect his tray. Cold broth again today, but the wilted vegetables had been replaced with equally-wilted fruit.

_Whatever_. It was better than celery.

He gingerly moved back to his cot, swallowed the pills, and downed the rest of it. From what he’d gathered yesterday, he still had two hours until he’d have to deal with Law again. He knew he should be using it to think of ways to escape, but all he could think of was his crew. Did Killer get to their safehouse? Had his crew managed to burn all the evidence in their base before they were forced to retreat? God, if they’d even missed a little of it, each one of them could be hunted down. That shit had their real names, their homes…Kid had kept track of everything on his men so he’d know when they were in trouble, but all that would backfire now if any of it remained.

_Fuck_ , he couldn’t think about it. Already he felt disconnected from his life in the past, from his men, from everything to do with the world outside. He couldn’t have been here longer than a week, but it felt like he’d been suffering for a lifetime.

He must have passed out at some point, his body too exhausted to keep up with his racing mind, because the next thing he knew was his guard knocking on the bars to wake him up.

“Time to see the doctor.”


End file.
